


Let it Out

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-28
Updated: 2009-05-28
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: “Dean, no,” Sam gasps as Dean rubs along his stomach.  “C-can't.”
“Yes, you can,” Dean whispers.  He's trailing a hand up and down Sam's stomach, gentle but with just the right amount of pressure.  “Let it go.” Warning: watersports





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for the [My Bloody Valentine Release Party Meme](http://deamsgirl.livejournal.com/39557.html). Prompted by: "watersports".

“Dean, no,” Sam gasps as Dean rubs along his stomach. “C-can't.”

 

“Yes, you can,” Dean whispers. He's trailing a hand up and down Sam's stomach, gentle but with just the right amount of pressure. “Let it go.”

 

Sam hides his face in crook of his arm, cheeks burning up in shame or desire or both. “Let me up,” he pleads. “Don't wanna—“

 

Dean's eyes flicker black as he frowns and says, “ _Sammy_ ,” making it sound like both a reprimand and a prayer.

 

“Please,” Sam croaks, but there is a hint of resignation seeping through. It makes Dean smile.

 

Dean puts more pressure on Sam's stomach, trailing down to briefly rub Sam's straining cock before sliding back up. “You want to, baby. I can tell.” He leans in and gives Sam a kiss that is more teeth than lips. “I want you to. Want to see it all over you.”

 

Sam bites on a fist and groans. “Can't,” he says again. “I can't. Don't make me.”

 

There's a little crease of annoyance between Dean's brows and he presses the heel of his free hand to the outline of Sam's throbbing dick. He starts an easy rhythm of _pressrubpress_ that matches the strokes to Sam's stomach.

 

Sam arches against Dean's hand, whimpering as Dean starts to grind his own clothed cock against Sam's leg. Dean nods his head toward the nightstand, empty except for a half-full bottle of water and he pants, “Drink it, Sammy.”

 

Sam screws his eyes closed. “No, Dean, please.”

 

Dean's eyes flash black again. “ _Drink it_ ,” he repeats, emphasizing the words with an almost painful press to Sam's abdomen.

 

Sam grabs the bottle and unscrews the cap with shaking fingers. He takes a sip and jumps when Dean says, “All of it. Gulp it down.” So Sam does. The pressure in his stomach is almost unbearable and he wants to let go, but... he can't.

 

“Dean,” he cries, harsh and incoherent as he feels his balls start to tighten. “'M gonna come. Please... my jeans...”

 

“I want to see you come in them,” Dean growls. “Do it, Sam.”

 

Sam's face contorts and his back arches to an almost painful angle as he comes and comes and _comes_. Dean's working him through it, a pleased little smile on his face as the wetness starts to seep through the denim. Sam gives a strangled cry as the pressure in his stomach intensifies from his release. “Dean,” he chokes out. “Dean, I—”

 

Dean presses his palm firmly into Sam's abdomen and Sam can't help the small trail of urine that trickles out. Dean gives a hum of approval and presses again. Sam can't hold it anymore and it all comes out in rush, staining his jeans and the sheets below him. After hours of fighting it, it almost feels like coming a second time.

 

Dean moans and unzips his fly. There's a moment when Dean's pulling out his gorged cock that Sam thinks, _no fucking fair_ , but then Dean is shooting cum all over Sam's stomach and making the most delicious little noises and Sam's mind mostly turns into a swirling pool of _yesyesyesyes_.

 

When Dean's wrung the last of his release from his dick, he all but collapses on top of Sam. “Sammy,” he whispers. “Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby.”

 

Sam's face feels hot all over as he says, “Can I please go clean up, Dean?”

 

Dean lifts his head enough to shoot Sam a wicked smile. “No. Want you to stay in them. Want you to feel your come and piss all night.”

 

Sam feels his eyes start to tear up. “D-D-Dean...”

 

Dean presses a hand against the mess in Sam's jeans and pulls the younger man in for a kiss. “You're mine, Sam,” he says against Sam's lips. “And the next time I catch you with Ruby, I'll make you stay in your piss-wet jeans for a month.”

 

Sam hides his face in the crook of Dean's shoulder and cries. He doesn't move to clean himself up, even after Dean slowly drifts off. He stays sticky and wet and shamed all night, and meets Dean's approving smile in the morning because Dean's right. Sam is his, and he won't forget it ever again.


End file.
